King of Hundred Victories Saber

Chapter 811 - 241: The Divine Skill of Mingyu Dispels Darkness, News of Victory on the Grasslands Praises Heroic Spirit (Part 5)

This palm technique not only takes lives but also destroys a person’s will, making them die in agony.

Lie Quan held the Heaven and Earth Saber, its blade wide and heavy, shimmering with a cold gleam, like an indestructible shield.

He displayed the Heaven and Earth Saber Technique, with grand and sweeping movements, the saber’s light flickering like a blazing sun, trying to dispel this sinister palm technique.

Every slash was accompanied by immense power, the saber’s wind howling, slicing the air around with a "hiss", leaving deep saber marks on the ground.

Lie Quan shouted, "Good! Your wicked palm technique meets its nemesis in my Heaven and Earth Saber today! Watch how I break your demon technique today and let you see the power of the Heroic Sakura Association!" He and Ma Chan engaged fiercely, neither yielding, and the air was filled with flying dust and murderous intent. Each clash of weapons and palms erupted with dazzling sparks, as if stars colliding.

Miaojiang expert Ling Zhuang, dressed in Miao attire embroidered with strange patterns, those patterns glimmering under the sunlight as if imbued with life, speaking of ancient and mysterious curses.

His eyes bore a trace of cold malice, like the chilling stars in the night sky, exuding an aura that induced fear.

At this moment, he unleashed the "Seven Cultivator’s Finger", an extremely poisonous finger technique, rapidly charging at "Plum Blossom Dart" Shan Zhi. His fingers danced swiftly, fingertips flickering with a ghostly light, like agile venomous snakes, flicking their lethal tongues.

Every move raised a cloud of black poisonous mist, which corroded the air wherever it spread, making a "sizzle" sound, and the grass on the ground instantly withered, turning into black ashes.

Ling Zhuang, while attacking, let out a sinister laugh: "Humph, old man, today I’ll let you taste the power of Miaojiang’s deadly poisons! Under my ’Seven Cultivator’s Finger’, you’ll die without a whole corpse!"

Seeing this, Shan Zhi was greatly startled. Knowing the formidable nature of this finger technique, he dared not be careless, quickly wielding the Plum Blossom Darts, trying to fend off Ling Zhuang’s onslaught. "Divine Archer" Miao Menlong, with eyes as sharp as an eagle’s, instantly perceiving the perilous situation.

He lamented inwardly, but as the Hall Master of the Divine Arrow Hall, he knew there was no room for hesitation.

Without a second thought, he swiftly strung his bow, his movements fluid and seamless like flowing water.

The longbow in his hand was forged of fine steel, its bowstring taut, gleaming with a cold sheen.

With arrow notched, its tip gleaming with chilling light, he aimed directly at Ling Zhuang.

While drawing his bow, Miao Menlong shouted to Shan Zhi: "Brother Shan, don’t panic! Today, we shall confront this Miaojiang fiend together and let him know that the Heroic Sakura Association is not to be trifled with!" His voice was firm and powerful, echoing in the heavens and earth, carrying an unyielding courage.

Upon hearing, Shan Zhi’s spirits lifted, his hands moving like phantoms, so fast it was dazzling.

The Plum Blossom Darts in his hands, small and exquisite yet hiding lethal intent, flew out with a sharp whistling, like cold stars.

Each dart traveled with his inner strength, slicing bizarre arcs in the air, shooting towards Ling Zhuang.

While deploying his dart technique, Shan Zhi called back: "Master Miao, let’s fight side by side! Watch how I use these Plum Blossom Darts to break his Poisonous Finger Technique today!" Miao Menlong’s archery was even more extraordinary, his gaze focused, tightly glued to Ling Zhuang’s every move.

Each arrow fired with great power, shooting towards Ling Zhuang like meteors chasing the moon.

The arrows rotated swiftly in the air, making a "buzz" sound, like an angry hummingbird, carrying lethal menace.

The arrowheads gleamed with chilling light, seemingly capable of piercing through any obstacle.

Miaojiang has an extremely rare exotic venomous snake, named the Seven Cultivated Snake, with seven heads, exceedingly venomous, like a creature from hell.

No matter human or beast, a bite from any one of its heads means immediate death by sealing the throat, with no remedy.

Ling Zhuang’s master utilized the snake’s venomous blood, enduring countless hardships, in seclusion deep in the mountain forests, to cultivate this Seven Cultivator’s Finger.

Those who practice the Seven Cultivator’s Finger must first swallow the gall of the Seven Cultivated Snake, along with a specially crafted antidote to counteract the snake’s venom.

The gall is extremely bitter, unbearable for ordinary people, and the antidote’s preparation process is even more complex and tedious, requiring many rare herbal ingredients.

Once mastered, this finger technique is invincible, instantly killing whoever is poisoned, and the practitioner’s finger wind also carries a peculiar poison.

At this moment, Ling Zhuang’s finger wind was like a black poisonous mist, engulfing the surroundings, resembling a dark cloud, fiercely attacking Shan Zhi and Miao Menlong. Wherever it passed, the air was corroded, making a "sizzling" sound as if being scorched by fire.

The grass on the ground instantly withered, turning into black ashes, emitting a pungent smell.

While executing his finger technique, Ling Zhuang let out a sinister laugh: "Hmph, two little thieves dare to oppose me! Today, I’ll let you taste the power of my Seven Cultivator’s Finger, and in this poisonous mist, turn into pus and blood!"

The laughter was hair-raising, as if it had come from the Nine Nether Hell.

Shan Zhi and Miao Menlong defended themselves while carefully avoiding the poisonous mist.

Sweat covered their foreheads, sliding down their cheeks, their eyes filled with tension and urgency.

Shan Zhi continuously shot plum blossom darts from his hands, attempting to disrupt Ling Zhuang’s offense; Miao Menlong relentlessly shot arrows, suppressing Ling Zhuang with a rain of arrows.

Their figures agilely shuttled through the poisonous mist, each dodge was perilous, hovering on the edge of life and death.

Hakutu, the Mongolian Cavalry leader, was strong and burly, like a towering mountain. His full face of flesh trembled with his movements, resembling a heap of trembling fat, his eyes filled with ferocity and unwillingness.

In his hands was a large saber, wide-bladed, glinting with a cold light.

Vice Leader Bate, dexterous and agile, with eagle-like sharp eyes, as if he could see through every intention of the enemy.

He held a serrated saber, its sharp tip gleaming with icy light under the sun.

The two led the remaining troops like a pack of frenzied beasts, eyes flashing with bloodlust, launching one last assault towards the disciples of the Heroic Sakura Association.

The sound of hooves thundered, as if a thousand horses galloping by, slightly shaking the earth.

The dust floated, obscuring the sky and sun, this world seeming like a firepowder barrel ignited, ready to explode.

Shi Feiyang stood firm on the ground, his expression cold like frost, akin to a towering mountain, immovable.

He donned a white long robe that fluttered in the wind, adding a touch of mystery and majesty.

He lightly touched the ground with his feet, as graceful as a drifting snowflake, gently landing, blocking the enemy’s cavalry singlehandedly. His gaze was steadfast, exuding a natural confidence and dominance.

His palms gradually crossed, and in a flash, the Bright Jade Technique operated at high speed.

His skin gradually became transparent like jade, exuding a warm luster, resembling an exquisite jade statue of a Buddha.

His power did not recklessly disperse outward but converged inward like rivers returning to the sea, forming a powerful energy vortex within him.

Around him, True Qi formed a powerful vortex-like suction, akin to an invisible black hole, radiating a chilling force.

Even the surrounding air was drawn in by this suction, forming streams of air that revolved around him.

The enemy cavalry initially charged fiercely, yet like iron attracted to a magnet, they were uncontrollably drawn towards Shi Feiyang.

In an instant, horses neighed, enemies panicked, they pulled on reins futilely, trying to control their steeds, all in vain.

As his power ran at full force, Shi Feiyang’s appearance grew increasingly transparent, like pure white ice shrouded in cold mist, emitting a bone-chilling cold. The dreadful chill generated by True Qi pierced into the enemies’ souls like sharp icy spikes, making them shiver as if plunged into an ice cellar.

The enemies felt an intense cold abruptly rise from every limb and bone, the chill like countless tiny ice needles piercing into the marrow.

Their bodies began to freeze, starting from the fingertips and toes, crystalline ice rapidly spreading, climbing up arms and legs like a surging tide. In the blink of an eye, they were transformed into ice sculptures, preserving their ferocious or frightened expressions from life, rigidly standing on the battlefield.